It's All Coming Back to Me
by lilleangel
Summary: Forgotten memories. Ginny has tried to forget her history with Harry and move on, but her heart has other ideas. Oneshot


Ginny tugged at her light shawl. It barely protected her shoulders from the scorching midday sun, and was now struggling to shelter her from the harsh wind. Her tears didn't fall. It had been so long and she had struggled so much, and it seemed they had simply dried up forever.

The young woman was stronger now than she was that fateful night, just over a year ago. She had finished crying the instant that he left, knowing nothing could dampen the rage, or heal the wound in her heart. The only way to move on was to banish every memory, every feeling that she had shared with him, right down to those long-ago childhood fantasies.

And she had succeeded for the most part. The year at Hogwarts had been eventful enough to distract her anyway, as she became the ringleader of increasingly daring plots to rescue the school for Carrow leadership. But every time the congregation in the common room adjusted the dials on their wireless, whispering passwords and turning down the volume so low that even the portraits, hungry for information, had to lean in, Ginny was at the head of the group avidly listening for any mention of _his_ name.

But just the three seconds of pleasure it took to drink in any of the news would lead to a night filled with pain, an uneasy sleep and dreams of the past. Meeting him for the first time, on platform 9 ¾, as a skinny, young boy with a shock of raven hair. The first time he touched her. Yes, it was just an accidental bump on one of the many crossings of paths the Weasley family encountered on the Burrow stairs, but he had smiled sheepishly and apologised, while she blushed profusely. The first time he held her. Down in the dank, dark bowels of the castle, dead snake and obliterated memory behind him. He had saved her life, her knight in shining armour.

But why would they come back. She had tried so hard to forget it all. The moments of gold, the precious spare moments they had together. The beacon of light she had brought into his life. Each evening they spent together, sometimes accompanied by her brother and best friend, they discovered something new. She remembered everything thing they did. Now those moments might seem idiotic and downright strange, but at the time, the place, the moment it was all so right. Just being in his company was once a source of endless bliss, which surely could not be legal or possible in the physical laws or muggle and magic alike.

When he had first ended their relationship, she would insist to her family she was fine, but it was all a hollow lie. Her brothers tiptoed, with the constant threat of a bat bogey hex hanging over their head if they dared rub her the wrong way. She hadn't told anyone what her real problem was, but nobody had trouble guessing that it was to do with him.

And now she sat on the grassy hill, staring at the inky sky, the stars mocking her with their gentle twinkling. No doubt a romantic night for many. But not for her. She seemed to have destroyed any chance of a reunion since he had returned. Every chance he had, he would approach her, but she batted him away like a pest, with increasingly hurtful comments about the state he left her in. For the past fortnight he had simply avoided her. She mentally hit herself. She was practically dying inside without him. Tugging the emerald strap that had fallen down her shoulder, she realised that she was finally alone at last, her supposed wish since the family had returned, one member short, to her childhood home. But instead of relishing in her solitude on this starry night, she found it all too easy to count up all the hours that the couple had lost because of her stupid pride and stubbornness.

Ginny shook her head, all the carefully intertwined curls falling about her shoulders, now free from the grips that held them. He was history. The moment he apparated from her, he had sealed their fate. She had moved on. She had become strong again somehow and continued to fight now with extra armour around her heart. She hadn't wasted any time on him since then.

When he tried to stop her fighting, protecting her in that same stupid blunder that had already caused him to lose her, her blood boiled. The fury at him was the extra force behind her spells that night, an anger and hatred she never thought would relinquish. How could, after everything they had been through together, he still think of her as a little girl? Her innocence had fled along with that damn diary.

But. . .

When she heard that voice echoing about the grounds- that sick voice that chilled her to the very bone- her heart stopped beating. Her world had come crashing down and she ran. Seeing his lifeless body hanging in the giant's arms pushed her into an ice-cold chasm. The closest she'd ever felt to that was passing a dementor. But even that could not compare to the loss and ache of the minutes between that moment and when he revealed himself, miraculously risen from the dead. Relief swamped her. But she could never forgive him for what he did. The torture she, her family and his best friends endured, just seeing him there, lifeless.

On the other hand, she could also never forget the kiss. Well, either of them. That fiery gaze in his pickle-toad eyes when he captured her lips with his, in front of the whole Gryffindor house. And the heated passion of his seventeenth birthday present. The smallest part of her was hoping he'd stay. Or take her with him. Or restart their relationship. Or at least say goodbye!

Ginny screamed into the darkness. All the anger, sadness, and pain he had caused her escaped, and flitted away into the night. She collapsed into the grass and tore at it, tears finally cascading down her face.

How was it fair, that here she was on her best-friend's wedding day, utterly miserable? Why were the couple so bewilderingly happy, as the forgotten sister and best mate lay in life's gutter? She sobbed into the ground, letting the damp soil muffle her cries.

The day had been so beautiful. Her friend was decked out in white silk, a rose in her hair. The bridesmaids wore emerald green fishtail dresses, the men in similar coloured dress robes. Poor bride. During the planning, she had to find a colour that would not clash with her fiancé's or maid-of-honour's red hair. But Ginny felt no sympathy. There was some sneaky plot on behalf of the family, which resulted in her and _him_ walking down the aisle together, in an awkward silence.

He had looked very handsome; the bottle-green robes were a perfect match to his eyes. For the entire wedding, her eyes had not left him, following him right through to the reception. In the end, it was more than she could take, seeing countless girls charming him, and she simply disappeared.

Why was it so hard? All she had to do was swallow her pride and they could both be happy. As she shuddered with her silent sobs, she felt a reassuring hand upon her shoulder. Her skin burned at the contact, and she immediately knew whom it was.

'Harry,' she whispered, the very name scorching her throat. Strong arms lifted her onto her feet, forcing her to turn. She raised her eyes and was at once lost in their jade depths. 'I am so sorry for everything,' she sniffed, 'I just couldn't forgive you for everything I went through. But seeing you. . .' and she broke down again, fresh tears springing in her eyes.

'I know,' he replied comfortingly, patting her head. He enveloped her in his muscular arms, allowing her to collapse into his chest. They stood like this for a long while, each drinking in the moment, as the wind caressed their embrace.

Ginny looked up at Harry, her tears finally dry. His scar was now a faded pink line. His head inched towards her, and they kissed. Not with the frenzy of their first, or the passion of their last, but a gentle, welcoming kiss in which every emotion they had both felt for the past year was poured into.

The couple sank into the ground, overwhelmed with the weight of all this, but didn't stop, for a fear that this could just be a dream. But deep down they both knew: this was it. Their lives were sealed together, and they would never, ever be apart again.


End file.
